Fall For You: A Reverse Grump Romantic Comedy (A Season's Detour, Book 2)

by Hayleigh Sol

  “But I started to see through the act. Maybe I got smarter, maybe I was just sick of never knowing where I stood with him. The last time he said we should take a break, just after college graduation, I told him that was it. I was done. There was nothing he could say or do to win me back.”

  Head tilted, Garrett watched me in that way he had. As if he knew exactly what I was about to say. Exactly what I was thinking and feeling.

  “Aaron really topped himself that time. He showed up at my apartment with an engagement ring and a pretty speech. One of those uber sentimental ones they always put in chick flicks, usually after the guy’s screwed up in some major way.”

  My silent companion huffed out a small laugh and nodded once.

  “I’ve never been a big fan of those, ironically. Never trusted a bunch of flowery words. If someone loves you, they should just say it, and show it. Genuinely, consistently. Love doesn’t need window dressing.”

  A soft smile. “I agree.” He took a sip from his own water bottle and trimmed the sails. “So, in spite of your distaste for pretty speeches‌…‌”

  I sighed. “I said yes. And we started planning the most ill‌–‌advised wedding in history.”

  “Surely not the most ill‌–‌advised. Wasn’t Britney Spears married to some guy for a couple of days?”

  Appreciating that he was helping me keep the mood light, I conceded his point, laughing as I looked out over the water. “It’s funny, Aaron’s last name is Daley. So, if I’d taken his name, as I planned to back then, I would’ve been Bailey Daley.” I pulled a blehck face. “That should’ve been my first sign the universe was trying to tell me something.”

  My gaze returned to Garrett, who was watching me patiently.

  “How close was the wedding day when you found out he was cheating?”

  Close enough that we’d already received a few gifts, far enough out that we hadn’t forfeited too much in the way of deposits. Garrett told me his former fiancée had done him the same courtesy, if you could consider it that. I wondered what he thought of Noah and his sister having such a short engagement.

  “Did you catch him in the act?” Brow and nose wrinkled, Garrett looked pained at the thought on my behalf.

  “Not in the way you’re probably thinking. We had tickets to‌…‌huh, that’s funny, I don’t even remember anymore. Anyway, he asked me to check his email, make sure the tickets didn’t have to be printed out. My eye caught on a subject line about one hundred roses.”

  I’d never forget what a fool I’d been, thinking Aaron was ordering flowers for me and promising myself to act surprised when they arrived.

  “Something made me click on that message. The fact that it was from Craigslist, which seemed an odd way to order flowers, or‌…‌I don’t know, intuition. But I did open it, and I discovered my future husband was soliciting sex. Apparently, “roses” was code for dollars.” Garret’s pained look intensified. “It was somewhat amusing ‌–‌ whoever he was chatting with basically called him out for being cheap, said something about how a hundred roses wasn’t even half the normal rate.”

  “Jesus, I’m so sorry, Bailey.”

  “Oh, did you think that was the worst of it?” His eyebrows raised. “After that email, I kept looking. Found three more, one an exchange between a couple looking for a threesome. There was a picture of Aaron naked, ass up, on our bed. Like he was showing them the merchandise.”

  My heart was pounding, a fluttering sensation, like a trapped butterfly, in my throat. It was exactly what I’d experienced when I’d found all those damning emails. Minus the nausea and tunnel vision. At the time, I’d thought I was seconds away from fainting. Me, fainting.

  Garrett reached a hand out to me but I could only shake my head. If he touched me now, I didn’t think I could get through the rest.

  “The last email, which Aaron came out of the bathroom to find me reading, was between him and a man who either dressed as a woman for these”‌—‌I swallowed hard‌—‌“encounters. Or was transgender. I never did find out. Not that I asked. Evidently, Aaron was looking for something I couldn’t give him.”

  The hand that had reached to offer comfort was now cupped over his mouth. “Jesus,” he mumbled under his fingers.

  “I was so‌…‌repulsed. Not that he was gay or bisexual or ‘confused’‌—‌his favorite word‌—‌but because he’d lied to me for so long about who he was. And because he’d cheated, repeatedly, instead of letting me go find happiness somewhere else.

  “Then, I thought about how much he’d put me at risk. Since we were getting married, our birth control was the pill. Who knew if he’d brought home any STDs? I started to ask him, of course, but then realized I couldn’t trust a single word out of that lying mouth of his. I can’t even describe what a relief it was when all my tests came back negative.”

  “What did he say when you showed him the emails?”

  My laugh sounded bitter to my own ears. “That was the best part. He didn’t apologize, didn’t use the typical cheater’s line that it hadn’t meant anything. All he said was that he was so embarrassed. He was embarrassed. Can you believe it?”

  Garrett shook his head, the look on his face nearly reflecting my own disbelief all those years ago.

  “So, that was it for Aaron and me. I’d never be able to look at him the same way after finding all that out. For months, I beat myself up, wondering how I never saw it. At the same time, I was furious with him for leading me on, for lying and cheating. He’d lived through my father’s betrayal with me, he knew the impact that had on me. Still, he proposed, for fuck’s sake. What was the plan? Was he going to come out of the closet on our golden wedding anniversary? Tell me he’d been having affairs the entire time?

  “Anyway, once I got past the blinding rage, I promised myself I’d never let anybody do that to me again. Never trust or let another person get close enough that they could have that kind of power over me. Never let myself be so weak again.” I felt my invisible armor lock into place, shoulders back, chin tilting up.

  Eyes pinched, Garrett reached out and captured my hand in his. “You can trust me, Bailey. Don’t you know that?”

  I shook my head. “Have you ever noticed that the people who insist you trust them are the ones you really have to watch out for? The ones you should trust the least?”

  “One person betraying your trust doesn’t mean everyone’s untrustworthy.” He glanced at the sail and made an impatient sound. “Hang on, we’re luffing here. I don’t want us to get stuck in irons.”

  How appropriate, I thought, when we were just talking about the imprisonment that was marriage and commitment.

  It took Garrett several minutes to correct the sailboat’s course. I tried asking him questions about what he was doing, in hopes that our heart‌–‌to‌–‌heart was done. He answered me distractedly. Then he sat and faced me once more.

  “Okay, back to what we were talking about.”

  Oh, goody.

  “You say you don’t trust anyone. What about Tracie and your other friends? You talk about them like they’re family.”

  “Well, they are. But I’ve known those five ladies since we were kids. With your sister, I fully anticipate that we’ll drift apart if she gets married. That’s just how it goes. Besides, what I was talking about before was not getting involved with anyone romantically.”

  “Because what you and I have been doing is just hooking up, right?” He held up a hand as soon as I opened my mouth to agree. “You may have yourself fooled on that one, but you can’t tell me this is just about scratching an itch.”

  I didn’t know what to say. When he put it that way, I knew I saw him as more than the physical release he always provided. But it wasn’t fair to lead him on. I could write a book on how awful that felt. And my walls wouldn’t come down just because he wished it so. “Garrett, I have a really great time with you‌—‌”

  He made a scoffing sound. “No platitudes, if you please.”

&nb
sp; “Let me finish. And give me a break, okay? This is new territory for me.” His mouth moved into apologetic lines but there was plenty of wariness there, too.

  After a fortifying breath, I attempted not to piss him off or hurt his feelings. “I do have a good time with you. That’s true even out of bed. Although, you have to admit that’s where we really shine.” I gave him a devilish smile and a wink, relieved when his expression softened.

  But this was the hard part, for me to say and, maybe, for him to accept. “I don’t know if I’ll ever want to be in a serious relationship again. The thought of labels makes me‌…‌itchy. I’m sure a psychologist would say that’s my past talking. Because, every time I counted on a man and thought life was going great, the rug was yanked out from under me. That’s fine, I accept that. I embrace that. My name is Bailey and I have trust issues wider than this ocean.”

  I reached out and placed my hand on his, hoping he saw the sincerity in my eyes, or at least how major this conversation was for me to even be having. “In spite of all that”‌—‌I took another big breath‌—‌“I’d like to keep spending time with you.”

  Anticipating his response would be something like what I’d said wasn’t any different than what we’d agreed to a few weeks ago, I went one step further. “It doesn’t have to just be the sexy times. You can tell me about your restaurants and the employee who’s driving you crazy, and I’ll tell you about my day and the self‌–‌important ‘influencer’ I couldn’t get to put her phone down. Maybe we can watch a movie together and, I don’t know, fall asleep. Without sex first.”

  He showed the first hint of a smile since we’d started this. “You make that sound like such a sacrifice.”

  “But one I’m willing to make. That’s a pretty big deal, you know.”

  Come on, Garrett. Work with me. Smile and tell me you’re cool with this.

  When he turned to look out over the ocean, I was rewarded with the view of his handsome profile. Strong jawline, a smooth neck I liked to kiss and nibble, an earlobe that was like a gummy bear, begging to be chewed on. He faced me again and the frontal shot was just as beautiful as the side.

  “I want you to know I really appreciate everything you’ve told me today, your honesty and willingness to share what sounds like a pretty rotten time in your life.”

  Uggh, that sounds like the preamble to a “but”.

  “I’m going to be honest with you, too. I’ve always thought of myself as a relationship guy. I like snuggle time on the couch, talking over each other’s days, making plans for the next weekend or even the next month. Being there for the person you’re with and knowing they’ll be there for you.”

  Hearing Garrett describe himself as a relationship guy didn’t surprise me. Not now that I’d gotten to know him and not after what I’d heard him say to his sister this morning. He’d make a great boyfriend and he deserved to find a woman who would jump in with both feet and her whole heart. I got that. I even wished his would be one of the very few relationships that was happy and lasting. They were as rare as a double rainbow, but not completely out of the realm of possibilities for a guy like Garrett.

  “In spite of all that”‌—‌he grinned as he parroted me‌—‌“I’d like to keep spending time with you, too. With or without a label.”

  I felt shaky with the relief that rushed out of me.

  “But, I don’t want to share you. We’ve both been cheated on and we know what that feels like. I want us to agree, right now, that we don’t have to give each other titles or cutesy pet names but, while we’re seeing each other, we’re only seeing each other.”

  He looked so serious, all I could do was nod, my throat dry again. The intensity of his gaze was totally hot and my lady bits perked up. Him saying he didn’t want to share me didn’t hurt, either.

  “Okay, exclusivity but no labels. I can do that.” My voice was husky, my sea‌–‌legs a little shaky.

  We sealed the terms of our new arrangement with a kiss that had me wishing we were back on dry land already. Or at least on a bigger sailboat with a proper bed in the cabin.

  If my stomach felt a touch uneasy, I told myself it was the pitch of the waves, and not nerves over what sounded an awful lot like a committed relationship I was getting myself into.

  Chapter 21

  Pumpkin carving in your thirties, with a bunch of other thirty‌–‌somethings, was a mixed bag. The maze runners had arrived back at the house before Garrett and I, and the general mood was subdued. Everyone claimed to have had fun but it was clear, at least to those of us who’d taken the faster route, that the corn had won.

  Particularly when Garrett and I opened the front door and nearly tripped over the shoes scattered in the entry. Not to mention the pumpkins.

  “Hey guys, how was sailing?” A bedraggled Noah walked in from the direction of the kitchen as the door closed. “Oh, sorry about the mess out here.” With an old‌–‌man groan, he lifted a couple of pumpkins as Garrett and I followed him into the kitchen with the other two.

  While the guys laid out trash bags on the large dining table, I started washing dried mud off the future jack‌–‌o’‌–‌lanterns. I’d noticed a good deal of dried mud on some of the shoes by the front door, too, and imagined the intrepid explorers had a tale to tell about their time in the maze.

  Kevin and Ashley were sprawled on two of the couches in the living room, watching It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown on tv. They’d each poked a hand up over the backs of their respective couches in greeting and, when I peeked in the room, they looked so cozy I almost joined them. I couldn’t help but wonder if Ashley might be interested in Kev. He had the dark hair and facial scruff she’d told me she favored and I was ninety percent sure he was single.

  God, a few hours on a boat with Garrett and I’m turning into matchmaking Tracie.

  A collective half‌–‌hearted groan went around the room as we settled ourselves at the pumpkin‌–‌carving station. Reminding me again of Emma with her enthusiasm, Tracie rallied the troops. Once she came downstairs after showering off all the mud.

  “I think we walked that entire damn field, you guys. Somehow, we ended up in this section that was nothing but mud. I don’t even know if you can call it mud; it was more like mud soup. Anyway, guess who ended up slipping and falling, ass‌–‌first, in the soup.” She pointed double thumbs at her chest and smiled proudly. “This girl, right here.”

  Ashley raised a hand. “And guess who joined her.”

  Garrett and I were fighting a losing battle with our grins.

  “And guess who joined them.” Kevin shook his head as he swept a hand at himself and I couldn’t contain my laughter. “It was like some slapstick comedy show out in that corn.”

  Tracie snickered. “Only Noah managed to avoid falling in. But he got just as filthy hauling the rest of us out.” She squeezed her hero’s arm and he smiled back at her.

  Now I understood why everyone looked freshly showered and Kevin and Ashley were in pajama pants, Ashley’s the ultimate antithesis to the lingerie she’d had on the night before.

  Someone put on a playlist of Halloween music‌—‌I hadn’t realized there was such a thing beyond Thriller‌—‌and the mood around the table turned festive. The seed and pulp removal was every bit as tedious as I’d recalled from childhood, though perhaps a bit faster with adult‌–‌sized scraping and scooping techniques.

  “Dang, all this gunk is wrecking my manicure.” Ashley examined her nails as she grumbled, but she smiled like a little kid when she plopped an especially large mess of seeds next to her pumpkin.

  What really made me smile was the amount of time and thought everyone put into plotting their designs; one would’ve thought we were drafting one of Maya’s green architectural masterpieces.

  Staring at my pumpkin, I recalled the last time I’d done this. Aaron and I had recently gotten engaged and the sense that we might finally be something permanent had brought out an embarrassingly romantic side of
my personality I hadn’t thought existed. We’d taken engagement photos in adoring poses, surrounded by fall leaves, I’d gone out and bought a bunch of fall decorations for the apartment we shared, and I’d talked him into carving our own pumpkins.

  The face I’d carved was something silly I couldn’t remember now, but Aaron had carved our initials: AD + BS. It was the kind of sweet, romantic gesture he made seem effortless. When we were together. Before he’d get confused again.

  I looked across the table, catching Garrett’s eye. He gave me the secret smile of lovers. My lips returned the same before I looked back to the orange surface in front of me. Talking about my ex earlier, thinking about him now, I couldn’t shake the sense of‌…‌foreboding.

  But that was ridiculous. This wasn’t a thriller we were in. If anything, this weekend was a reality‌–‌suspending rom‌–‌com. The fancy digs and sailing had already conjured Wedding Crashers a time or two. You know, before the wealthy Kennedyesque family discovers their guests are lying, skeezy man‌–‌boys.

  “Are you disappointed that we couldn’t find a good haunted house, Trace?” When we’d researched online, there appeared to be lots of family‌–‌friendly events on the island, but Garrett and I hadn’t been able to find anything the Halloween addict would judge suitably terrifying.

  “It’s okay, Noah and I went to a great one earlier this week.” She faked a shudder, beaming ear‌–‌to‌–‌ear. “They had an autopsy suite where the corpse was pulling her own intestines out, eyeballs and teeth floating in mason jars, and the zombie ‘doctor’ was hidden around a corner until he jumped out wielding a bloody butcher’s knife.” Tracie laughed like a loon. “It was awesome.”

  Ashley’s shudder beside me was genuine. I glanced between Noah and Garrett, who were both shaking their heads, chuckling affectionately at Tracie. She dug into her pumpkin with gusto.

  Probably thinking about scooping out someone’s abdominal cavity.

  The macabre maven‌—‌not only was Halloween Tracie’s favorite holiday, but she was also a devoted true‌–‌crime podcast listener‌—‌came to my room to scope out my costume as I put finishing touches on my hair and makeup.